Perfect is Overrated
by DinoDina
Summary: Regulus had been excited for their first proper Valentine's Day together, but when Barty gets the flu, his plans are ruined. Oneshot. Fluff.


Regulus had never liked Valentine's Day. Until he'd gone to Hogwarts, he hadn't even known what it was, because no one in his family _ever_ talked about it. When the 14th of February had come around to the school and he'd drowned in pink hearts and overenthusiastic eleven-year-old girls, Regulus had firmly decided that he didn't like the holiday.

He didn't like the girls much, either.

He'd sulked and borne it—both the holiday and the girls—for the next six years. He'd shacked up with a lovely fifth year in his last year at Hogwarts, and they'd spent the day playing in the snow because Valentine's Day was _cliché_ and _romantic_ and _fake_ and _boring_ —and they were boys with no clue about what to do.

His first year out of school, Regulus had met the now-sixth year in Hogsmeade for a drink at the Three Broomsticks. His second year out of school, they'd done the same.

They'd moved in together when his boyfriend had graduated, and Regulus had—discreetly—been looking forward to their first Valentine's Day officially _together_.

And then Barty had gotten the flu and had been in bed with a fever of 39.9° for the past day.

Regulus wouldn't say it out loud—or even in his head—but he was disappointed. It wasn't that he wanted to celebrate Valentine's Day or that he and Barty hadn't talked about it because he was scared that Barty would laugh at him, or even that he felt bad about Barty being sick during a holiday.

Or maybe it was.

Regulus had wanted the day to be special, never mind the fact that it was cliché and fake, because it wouldn't be cliché and fake to _them_. They'd celebrated for the past three years, after all, albeit in casual, non-romantic ways.

So what if he'd booked them a night in a restaurant? So what if he'd ordered flowers to be delivered to the flat? So what if he was mad at Barty for being sick and mad at himself for being mad at Barty?

Regulus crossed his arms and sat down on the couch for a leisurely—and justified—sulk.

He needed to cancel the reservation and the flower delivery. And he'd do it, too. Just not right now. Right now, he'd fume about unfair circumstances, check on Barty, make lunch, and fume some more.

 _Then_ he'd cancel the romance.

Plan completed, Regulus made himself more comfortable. He had a plan for the sulking: five minutes, no more and no less.

So, five minutes later, he was making his way into the bedroom. The lights were off and he almost tripped on a pair of shoes when he entered, but he saw that Barty was still sleeping soundly.

Regulus quietly closed the door and withdrew. He made himself lunch, ate it alone, saw that Barty was still sleeping, refrained from waking him up, and called the restaurant and the florist.

It was Valentine's Day and, despite his boyfriend being in the same flat, Regulus was lonely.

.oOo.

Valentine's day didn't look any better when evening rolled around. Barty was still asleep—which was probably a good thing, given that neither of them were any good at household or wellness charms—and Regulus was still on the couch, _not sulking_.

Well, maybe just a little.

Valentine's Day was supposed to be special, and he was alone even though he had a boyfriend, and damn it, he was being overdramatic—

The doorbell rang.

Regulus mumbled a curse—a profane one, not a magical one—and ran to the door before the noise could wake Barty up. He threw the door open, intending to yell at whoever was making the racket, only to be met with a facefull of red roses.

Regulus sneezed.

"Are you alright, sir?" the flowers asked.

Regulus glared, sneezed again, realized that it wasn't the flowers talking, but the person holding them, and glared again for good measure. "Yes," he bit out. "What is this?"

"Uh… a Mr. … a Mr. Crouch ordered them to be delivered here. I believe."

"That's—when?"

"About an hour ago, sir." The flowers nervously shook. "Is this the wrong flat?"

"No." Regulus shook his head, signed for the delivery, took the bouquet, and sneezed again. "I'm just not Mr. Crouch. Thank you."

He shut the door to another terrified squeak, looked at the too-large bouquet, and sneezed again. He hated allergies. And he didn't know if they had a large enough vase.

But under his ruffled, sneezy exterior, Regulus was touched. If what the deliveryman had said was true, then Barty had decided to be romantic even from his sick-bed. Regulus had no idea how he'd done it, considering the fact that he'd thought his boyfriend to be comatose, but miracles happened.

A small cough came from the corridor. "You like 'em?"

"Wha—yeah." Regulus grinned broadly as he took in the sight of Barty, pale and tired but somehow awake, leaning on one of the walls. "Thanks."

"'s good." He coughed again, then cleared his throat. "Happy Valentine's Day."

Regulus smiled, sneezed, smiled again, and put the flowers on the coffee table in front of the sofa. He walked over and put his arms around Barty, taking some of his weight. "Happy Valentine's Day."

Barty grinned at him.

Regulus kissed his forehead in a gesture that doubled as affectionate and a way of checking his temperature. He frowned. "You shouldn't be up."

"'s Valentine's Day."

"You're sick." Regulus gave him a small nudge down the corridor in the direction of the bedroom. "Into bed with you."

Barty wiggled his eyebrows. "Really?"

"No."

"Oh." He pouted, coughed, gave Regulus more of his weight, and coughed some more. He sighed. "You—ahem—you're right."

"Yeah, that happens." Regulus nudged him again. He frowned when Barty stumbled. "You alright?"

"Yup."

"I don't think so." His earlier happiness at Barty being up and about was overshadowed by his worry.

"You're probably right." More coughing. "Reg?"

Regulus opened the door and moved them inside. "Yeah?"

"Will you cuddle with me?" Barty yawned, coughed, yawned again, and smiled at him. "Please?"

"Yeah." Regulus ruffled his hair. They approached the bed and he helped Barty in. "I'll go turn off the lights."

"Thadks." Barty rubbed at his nose, reaching for a tissue as Regulus went to see to the lights. Regulus had no idea how he'd managed to get up, considering that he was still half-asleep. "Reg?"

"Yeah?"

"You coming?" Barty patted the mattress next to him.

"Yeah."

"Reg?" Barty snuggled into his side.

"Yeah?"

"Happy Valentine's Day." He grinned, coughed, made himself comfortable against Regulus, coughed some more, and fell asleep.

 **Thanks for reading, and Happy Valentine's Day! :)**


End file.
